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Life of the Party
Amante finds a young man by the corner trying to impress a group of young ladies by brandishing his sword, swiping it in the air. Amante: Great. A show boat. Gualterio: 1 gold piece says his name is Roy. Grimnar: I'll take that bet. He looks more like a John. "Ya, but does he look like royalty?" Amante thinks to himself as he stares at the young man, discerning for any indication of royalty or militia; a coat of arms, family crest, or even just an insignia. He sees nothing of the sort, but is certain he's rich. The young man meets his eyes, and proceeds to stare Amante down. "Time to outshine this spoiled brat." Amante chuckles to himself. Navigating his way through the party, Amante walks over to where the young man stands, casually exposing Surtur's hilt. Amante with an air of confidence introduces himself. Amante: Greetings. I am Saureus, a traveler and blade connoisseur. Snobbishly, the young man looks Amante up and down, as if studying him. Amante: I couldn't help but admire your blade from a distance. A blade as fine as that is surely forged by some legendary sword maker. Before he could come up with a name for a fictitious legendary sword maker, Amante's thoughts are interrupted. Young man: Care for a wee bit of sparring sir??? He meets Amante's gaze once again, but now with a devious gleam in his eyes. Amante remains silent but raises an eyebrow and smirks, regarding the young man. It is understood. The challenge is accepted. A crowd begins to gather around the two combatants. Amante is the first to act, unsheathing and striking Surtur in one fluid and powerful motion. The attack is blocked. Amante's strike still breaks the young man's guard. The attack may not have drawn blood, but it surely dealt some damage, making the young man stagger. "Why do I always end up in fights?" Amante thinks to himself, half troubled, half pleased. The young man still with his footing, retalliates. The elaborate flourish is enough to make Amante misjudge the space and distance between them. Amante knows the mistake he's made even before the brilliant strike connects. He even sees it coming. Amante: Fucj-. His words are cut from his throat. With a furrowed brow Grimnar frowns, and mumbles to himself. Grimnar: Could you win just one fight? Fates have mercy. He is but a fool. The crowd around the sparring duo are aghast as blood sputtered from one of the participants. The Burgomeister steps in and slaps the young victor. Regis: What in Paladine’s name are you doing Nikolo??? He is a guest of our house. Being the closest, the dwarf rushes beside the bleeding ranger who is now on the floor, and applies pressure to the neck wound. The Regis turns to his servants. Regis: ''Summon master Selvig immediately.'' Regis to Grimnar: Do you know him master dwarf? Grimnar: He is one of me travelling companions. We are travelling merchants and are here for the festival. If I'd known this fool would've gotten himself into this kind of trouble, I wouldn't have bothered to bring him along. I forget my manners sir. I am Malthus Copperbottom, jeweller. Regis: I believe the fault was mine. My son is an accomplished swordsman, and is very much fond of showing off his prowess. I’m sorry that your companion is unlucky enough to be another victim on his list. I by the way am Regis Rumblebelly, Burgomeister of Forlorn. My personal healer will attend to him. It is the least that I could do. Grimnar bows in gratitude. Regis: So, you are a jeweller you say. Do you have anything on you at the moment that is for sale? Tomorrow is my wife’s nameday. I’m in the market for jewelry. I've been tied up recently because of all this dignitary news. A man in his mid 40's presumed to be Selvig arrives and kneels beside Amante. He appliese bandages to Amante's neck wound, then props him up and begins to administer a potion. Grimnar: You are magnanimous as you are wise Master Regis. These impetious youths do not yet realize the fleetingness of life. I bear no ill will against your son ser. If your healer is as good as you say he is, then there will be no cause for concern. The missus' nameday you say? Well then only the finest of gems are appropriate! Grimnar fishes for the runic ring he recieved from Gualterio as payment for appraising a batch of jewels the rogue recently procured. Grimnar: I present you one of my rare finds. It has a golden band with fine filigree, inlaid with the dwarven runes for protection and bounty. The sapphire that is inset at the center is at least 50 karats. Jewels are my trade you see. I've been appraising since I was but a boy. A dwarven sapphire ring, bluer than the sky and more delicate than a sugar loaf. Regis: How much might this cost master dwarf? I do apologize for being straight forward, but I'm pressed for time. Amante’s wound closes. He regains consciousness on the floor and finds himself face to face with a bald portly man in his mid 40's. Grimnar: Fit for the queen of your life! Grimnar exclaims as he hands over the ring for the Regis to admire up close. Grimnar: Let us strike a deal then. Give my clan-company trade rights to your town, and you may keep that as a token. Regis: This is a surprise. I will draw up the papers now. If you please, come with me to my study. Grimnar smacks Amante on the back of his head, and inaudible to anyone else but the groggy ranger, mumbles. Grimnar: Boy you had me worried. Now get up and thank the nice man. Grimnar points a stiff finger at Amante. Grimnar: No more fighting for you! This will come out of your pay! The dwarf strokes his beard. Grimnar: Yes, yes. Lead the way Master Regis. 05/19/2019 10:42 PM